


Love bites

by Howling_Harpy



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Banter, Celebrations, Drinking, Frottage, Jealousy, M/M, Making Out, Possessive Behavior, V-E Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howling_Harpy/pseuds/Howling_Harpy
Summary: Carwood wants to spend the V-E Day with Ron, but others keep getting in the way. When he finally gets him alone, things get heated very fast.
Relationships: Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Love bites

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked me about how Lipton would behave when jealous and possessive, and this fic was the result. I really like this one, I spent all my evening writing this and completed it from my bunk.
> 
> Kudos and comments are love. [You can also find me on Tumblr!](howling-harpy.tumblr.com/)

Celebrations of the V-E day went on for a couple of days, and no one attempted to put any stop to it. Thunderous good mood swiped every single soldier up with it, and everyone was too busy enjoying the purest joy they had ever felt to be concerned about order.

Carwood was swept up as well, and he wanted to share the feeling. Wherever he wandered in Berchtesgaden, he met buddies and buddies of his buddies and strangers, all of them just as excited to shake his hand and hug him and invite him to their party.

The Alps had felt like the den of evil when they had first arrived, but now with the war ended and Hitler and his entire command dead, it was like the sun had risen for the first time in years and suddenly it was the most beautiful place on Earth. Carwood also knew with whom he wanted to share it, and so with a Champagne bottle in hand he skipped through the hallways and streets looking for Ron. 

What he found first was a frustrated First Sergeant Talbert who passed him in the stairs. 

“Hey, Tab,” Carwood called like he had to anyone he came across “have you seen Captain Speirs?”

“Oh, have I!” Talbert huffed, palming his red face in evident frustration. “Up on the balcony with Sergeant Carson.”

Carwood thanked him and hurried along. He knew fully well that Talbert didn’t much like Ron as his superior officer, but Carwood didn’t care. The less he had to share Ron with others, the better. 

When he approached the balcony, he heard laughter of two men. When he came up, he saw Ron with his buddy Carson, both leaning on the railing and sputtering with laughter, both with smoking pistols in their hands. Carwood didn’t have to wonder about that for long before Ron spotted him and his face brightened.

“Lieutenant Lipton!” Ron cheerfully called out, quickly holstered his pistol and strode over to meet him. “Come, come, join us!” he gestured Carwood to him, while Carson by his side put his pistol in the holster as well and eyed him curiously. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Carwood said as soon as he reached Ron’s side and the other threw his arm around his shoulders. 

“And I you! I’m, ah, a bit out of control right now, I’m afraid,” Ron said and laughed, “Insubordinate towards myself.” 

The comment caused him to laugh and Carson joined him, but what the joke was remained a mystery to Carwood. 

“Oh hey, did you manage to take some of the good stuff from Nixon?” Carson suddenly asked when he spotted the bottle Carwood was carrying and snatched it from his loose grip before he had the chance to answer. 

Carwood blinked and felt irritated, but Ron had him in a tight hold and the situation had already progressed past the question of who had brought the bottle. It was loot anyway and he had meant to share it, so Carwood bit his teeth together and let it go. 

“Well, not really. He recommended this and gave it to me,” he explained and from the corner of his eye saw Ron leaning over too to inspect the bottle.

“It looks good,” Ron said, “Carson, don’t you dare to hog all of that to yourself!”

Carson grinned at him and popped the cork. It flew over the railing and out of sight, and the champagne foamed and spilled. Carson made a yelping noise before raising the bottle to his mouth to save what he could of the spilling drink. Ron laughed at him when he chocked on the bubbles, then reached out to snatch the bottle from him. He let go of Carwood to smack the now coughing sergeant on his back while tipping the bottle back to take a drink himself. When he lowered the bottle, he grinned at Carwood while still pounding Carson over his back. “Some men can’t handle their drink,” he sniggered and smirked. 

They left the balcony and the building together, and Carson stuck between them and chattered away with Ron. Carwood didn’t mind Ron’s friends, but as of that moment he had a very clear idea where he wanted Ron, and it wasn’t here on the streets and not with anyone else.

He thought he had gotten lucky when a group of enlisted men from Dog hollered and Carson went over to join them and waved his current companions goodbye. Carwood took Ron by the arm like they were simply very good friends and gave him a look that was so much more than that and started to lead him towards the hotel.

They almost made it. In the lobby there was a crossing of two very different groups, one of officers and one of enlisted men. It would have otherwise been perfectly fine, but someone in both groups spotted Carwood and Ron, and both wanted one but not both of them. 

Carwood couldn’t keep holding onto Ron’s arm when Lieutenant Shames pulled him into a hug and then along to his officer buddies. Carwood hadn’t ever felt like he wasn’t accepted among the officers, not while being backed up by Captain Speirs and Major Winters, but he still had his closest friends among the enlisted men while Ron had made his buddies among the officers.

There wasn’t a waterproof, innocent reason Carwood could think of that would have gotten them alone, so he chose to accept the defeat. When Skinny, Luz and Malarkey were pulling him along with them and back out, Carwood threw one last longing glance back at Ron, who was being roughhoused by Shames and Peacock, joined with officers from Dog company Carwood didn’t remember the names of. He watched Ron going for a round of playful wrestling among the officers before ending up next to Shames again. Carwood turned away.

Carwood did enjoy the company and even joined the party wholeheartedly – how could he not? – but again and again he felt a tug of yearning that reminded him that he hadn’t celebrated the occasion with the one he really wanted. It was an all too familiar feeling that resembled loneliness even when he was surrounded by friends, and he felt its pull particularly strong tonight. There was also another feeling mixing in with the usual loneliness, something that rumbled in his heart and resembled hunger. 

With all the drinking and dancing and singing people were starting to drop by the small hours. Empty bottles lay around and the men who had emptied them usually not far off, and finally Carwood was the last one up. He lay a gentle look at Skinny snoring into Liebgott’s jacket while lying on top of him on the sofa, and at Luz in the middle of his new collection of vinyl records of German and Austrian operas, and then he was off. 

The dark streets were not empty even two in the morning, but most of the noise was contained inside houses with bright windows. The crisp night air cleared Carwood’s head and something thrilling made him shiver but flush at the same time. He hurried his steps, increasing his pace little by little until he was running, and he didn’t stop before he jumped the stairs up to the hotel’s entrance three at a time.

He found Ron at the club on the first floor. It was a big hall of a room, entirely carpeted, full of groups of beautiful Austrian furniture, sofas and armchairs around low shining tables with crystal ashtrays, and with a whiskey bar in the back of the room. One wall was entirely windows lined with silk drapes, giving a breath-taking view out onto the mountains and valleys. Now the room was somewhat trashed, fancy glasses broken along with empty bottles and cigarette butts all over the floors and with the furniture rearranged along the whims of partying soldiers.  
Ron was alone in the room, taking up a three-person sofa by himself, slowly drinking brandy straight from the bottle with one foot on a table, gazing out of the windows.

Carwood sighed when he saw him. He felt relieved, but that hunger in his heart only ached deeper, so he approached. 

Ron heard him coming and turned to see who it was, only he didn’t seem a bit surprised. He smiled against the bottle.

“I knew it was you from your breathing,” he said.

Carwood smiled back and didn’t say anything until he was close enough to touch Ron. When he was closer he noticed one of the windows was open, letting a slight breeze of mountain air in. The scent of the night was thrilling. He brushed his hand on Ron’s shoulder, feeling its curve against him palm and squeezed it. 

Ron leaned his head back and peered up at Carwood. 

Carwood smiled back down at him, until he spotted something he didn’t like.

“That’s not your jacket,” he said.

Ron hummed like he didn’t at first know what he was talking about, but then he glanced at his jacket and huffed out a laugh. “Oh yeah, this is Ed’s. I don’t even know where mine is – with him, I guess? It’s going to be in an unholy condition when I get it back…” 

Usually Carwood would have laughed, but tonight he didn’t feel like it. The long night and the distance he had run just to be here were still fresh on his mind, and here Ron sat, wearing another man’s jacket.

“Take it off,” Carwood ordered. He hadn’t planned to say it and didn’t recognize his voice when it came out of his mouth, but the second it did he knew it was the right thing to say. He clutched a fistful of the material. “Now.”

Ron huffed something like he thought it was stupid, but he did set the bottle aside and shook Shames’ jacket off. He was wearing his own shirt underneath at least, but Carwood noted the amount of undone buttons and a few that were in wrong buttonholes. 

When Ron shed the jacket, Carwood circled the sofa to stand in front of it, took the jacket and tossed it aside. He checked once again that they were alone in the grand room, that it was dark and silent, and then in a swift move straddled Ron on the sofa.

“Huh,” Ron said like this was a pleasant surprise he wasn’t quite processing yet and glanced Carwood over in his lap. He lifted one hand and patted Carwood’s side in an awkwardly friendly gesture.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” Carwood said, peering down at Ron, whose eyes flicked up to his when he spoke. 

A slow smile crept on Ron’s face. “You missed me,” he teased.

“Yes,” Carwood said simply, not in the mood to play coy or for any games. He brushed Ron’s hair from his eyes, touched gentle fingers to his ear, his jaw and his chin, pressing a thumb to his plush lower lip. “Did you miss me? At all?”

Ron sighed and his hands came to rest on Carwood’s hips. “I guess,” he said and grinned. 

Carwood tilted his head and pressed his thumb on Ron’s beautiful mouth slightly harder. “Did you really?” he asked again. “There were lots of men here, how did you know to miss just one?” Even thinking that made a bitter taste bite in the back of his throat, and speaking it aloud stung. 

Ron just smiled. He might have been drunk, but there was a mischievous, knowing look in his eyes and his hands flexed on Carwood’s hips. “Oh, I don’t know,” he started, his voice light and teasing, “I’m not sure I remember, actually. But there’s this one guy who just is different from everyone else… There’s this thing he does, I think… Something that only he knows how to do, but it seems that I can’t recall what it was.”

“Oh?” Carwood replied, “do tell if it comes back to you.” He squeezed Ron between his thighs and rocked in his lap, fitting himself snuggly against him. The yearning that had possessed him all night was still there, and it felt like he couldn’t press against Ron’s belly and crotch firmly enough, so he had to rock back and do it all over again.

Under him Ron sighed and slumped down on the sofa, sinking into the cushion. His head tilted back against the backrest and he spread his legs more, and his hands that had been lazy and idle curled around Carwood’s hips and held on when he moved. 

Carwood rocked back and forth and kept his rhythm slow and the movement shallow. He never wanted to be too far from Ron and never wanted to stop feeling him against him, but at the same time he did want to _move_. He supported himself on the backrest of the sofa and kept moving, and with the rhythm and the languid lull of his hips felt almost like he was dancing. 

“Is this something only that one special guy does?” he muttered.

There was a deep blush rising to Ron’s face and he was definitely hard under the tempting grind, but still he smirked and seemed to want to play. “It’s like I can… almost remember. Not sure, though, might have been someone else,” he said even when his line was interrupted by the shuddering inhales he took without seemingly meaning to. 

Carwood sank his fingers in Ron’s hair and pushed it back. He leaned over him, and Ron’s eyes were heavy-lidded but sharply inspecting him. Carwood couldn’t wait or tease any longer, simply bent down to kiss him. 

He kissed Ron firmly and once and made sure it would feel like a challenge, then pulled back an inch. Ron’s hips gave a buck and he tried to follow Carwood’s mouth, but when he pulled too far back he gave up and just pouted at him.

“I think that’s it,” Ron said in a breathless, low voice. 

It was Carwood’s turn to smile with satisfaction. He stroked his fingers through Ron’s hair and leaned over him again. “Yeah? What is?” 

Ron flicked his tongue out to lick his lips, and Carwood couldn’t help but to think he was readying himself for him.

“I think there’s only one guy who sits in my lap and kisses me silly,” Ron stated like he had only now connected the dots. He reached for Carwood’s face with one hand and cupped his cheek. “Oh look, there you are.” 

It was like a thread had snapped, and Carwood couldn’t stop himself from diving in. He kissed Ron like he needed him to breathe, like he was air and water and salvation, and the deep hunger in his heart consumed the desire that was both sparked and satisfied in the kiss. He held Ron’s face with both hands when he moved his lips over his and licked into his mouth, tasting brandy. He tilted his head into a better angle so that he could kiss him even deeper, so firm and deep that it made him ache, and even that wasn’t enough. 

The night with all of its roaring joy had felt incomplete without this, without Ron there with him like this, and spending something this important apart had felt like an affront. Carwood couldn’t get enough, he felt a desperation growing inside him like a hungry flame in dry grass, and the only way to tame it was to touch Ron. He kissed his mouth over and over again, then in a spur of tenderness his cheek, his jaw and then down his neck. He yanked the buttons of his shirt open to reveal more warm, smooth skin for him to worship, and with each kiss came a flood of thoughts he couldn’t stop. 

This was Ron, his Ron, his dearest one who was more important to him than anyone else, and Ron was here with him, only him, for him… 

Ron jolted and hissed. “Ow.”

Carwood snapped out of his heated thoughts and pulled back. Ron touched the side of his neck with his fingers, then frowned up at Carwood.

“Did you just bite me?” he asked.

With a start Carwood realized that he had, and just like that he returned to himself from the almost ravenous state his mind had wandered into. “Oh! Oh, no – I mean, yes, but I didn’t mean to… Christ, did I hurt you? That’s too far, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have…” 

“Shh, it’s alright,” Ron quieted him and petted his thigh for good measure. He touched his neck again, then looked up to Carwood with unreadable eyes. “You really missed me, huh?”

Carwood blushed and bit his lip, nodding. “Yeah.”

Ron narrowed his eyes and studied him. “All those other guys pawing me and hogging me for themselves didn’t make you too happy, did it?”

Carwood bowed his head. “No.”

Ron hummed, deep in his chest and clearly satisfied, then relaxed back into the sofa, exposing his beautiful, tan neck. “More of that, please.”


End file.
